please don't say you love me ('cause I might not say it back)
by minachandler
Summary: Set just before the scene at the beginning of 2x20. Sara finds comfort in Oliver's arms, but he has something surprising to tell her. Smut.


The hotel room is warm, luxurious, with a wonderful view of the city. Tossed on the floor are Sara's bra and shirt, and next to them on the bedside cabinet are two half-full glasses of wine. On the floor is a bucket of ice with the bottle of wine in it.

Sara smiles against Oliver's mouth, kissing him, straddling his lap.

"So we _are_ staying," Oliver says.

"For a while, yeah," Sara says, pretending to be exasperated but not quite managing it. She gets up off his lap, takes off her pants and underwear in one go. Then she unbuttons his shirt, tossing it on the floor with hers, and his pants are next. Sara just pushes her hair back, gets down on her knees, and Oliver lets out a soft _oh_ of surprise.

She cups him with both her hands through his boxers, and Oliver groans. Sara pushes roughly at his chest, until he's lying back on the bed, and then she plants a kiss on the inside of his thigh. She opens her mouth, lets her tongue flick against warm skin, moving slowly up as with her fingers she pulls down his boxers. She has to tug hard, and when they're off she can see why. A rush of arousal ripples up her spine at that, making her nipples pebble as they press against his knees.

Oliver tries to sit up, then, but Sara just pushes at his chest again, before her hands wrap around his cock. He groans again, and Sara goes slow, running her thumb along his slit and then palming his length, giving it a squeeze. A little bit of his essence comes out at that, and Sara opens her mouth, lets her tongue lap it up.

She kisses the tip of his cock, tongue licking at his slit, and it's obvious Ollie's trying not to move, but then she takes one of her hands off him and finds his own and squeezes his fingers. _It's okay_ , she tells him.

Then she opens her mouth and takes him, and he gasps, reflexively thrusting into her mouth. She lets him, lets him take a second to get used to her, and then she pulls away a bit, so only the tip of his cock is in her mouth. And she's stroking him, gradually more firmly, vigorously, feeling herself get progressively wetter each time she runs her fingers down his length. Then she takes him again in her mouth, until she's sure his cock is touching the back of her throat, but she doesn't stop what she's doing with her lips and tongue, not until he comes, panting Sara's name over and over, right into her mouth. Sara swallows it willingly, revelling in the taste of him, and, breathing heavily, she lies back on the pillows, smiling up at him.

"Your turn."

"With pleasure," Ollie says, smiling back, and he crawls on top of her, kissing her lips, then her neck, while his fingers dip below her navel. Next he kisses between her breasts, his other hand playing with her nipple, and Sara thanks the stars for how dextrous he's become since taking up archery.

Huh. Maybe she has a type.

He's at her abdomen now, and he kisses his way down, all the way down her hip until he's kissing the inside of her thigh, while with his hand he's stroking her between her legs, parting damp hair so tortuously lightly. At last his mouth is at her centre, and Sara feels her walls tense against the slight roughness of his tongue. She's wet, so much so that her thigh is sticky with arousal, and he laps up every drop of her essence, licking his way outward so he can catch the moisture leaking onto her thigh. Then he kisses his way inward again, slowly, until he finds her clitoris. It's throbbing, that much Sara can feel, and his tongue flicks against it Sara cries out, thankful that in a hotel as expensive as this the rooms are pretty much soundproofed.

He does it again, flicks his tongue against her clit, and that's all it takes to set her over the edge; she rocks her hips against his mouth, arching her back, fingers threading through his hair, and when she comes it's with a gasp and a moan as she collapses back on the bed, panting.

"Phew," says Sara.

"Good?" Oliver asks, reaching up to kiss her, and it takes a second to get used to the sweetness of her own taste. He's hard again, that much she can feel given what she can feel digging into her thigh.

"The best," she replies. She reaches down, her hand enclosing his cock. She pumps him,and he groans. "Come inside me."

He obeys, his hand closing around the wrist of the hand still around his cock. She guides him inside her, and she moans when he kisses her neck and thrusts into her.

"God, Ollie…"

But then Oliver slows, reaches down, searching for her clitoris. When he finds it the pleasure courses through her, white-hot, unlike anything she's ever felt before, and her hands go up to his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades, and he thrusts into her again, once, twice, three times, so he's filled her right to the hilt. They move together, until finally Sara comes and Ollie spills inside her, showering her neck with kisses.

"Sara…"

"Ollie -"

"I love you," he says, burying his face into her neck, making her freeze. "God, I love you."

"Y-you do?"

He chuckles. "You sound so surprised."

"I… it's just... I'm not worthy of that." She thinks about what's done. Who she's killed. And then she thinks about the words he's just said to her and how undeserving she is of them.

"Yes you are," Ollie says. "Of course you are. And I'm not - I didn't say it so I could hear it back. It just - felt right. No pressure or anything."

She breathes a sigh of relief at that, kissing him, and he kisses her back, so she can taste the smile on his lips.

Secretly, though, she hopes that maybe one day - she might be able to say it back.

Out loud, she searches for something else to say.

"Do you think Roy's okay?"


End file.
